


We'll Be Alright

by if_he_had_to_guess



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Fluff, I know my character tagging is shit before you start lmao, M/M, fuck guys I suck at tagging I should really stop lmao, tags will be updated as the fic updates I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7464336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/if_he_had_to_guess/pseuds/if_he_had_to_guess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>credit to fxfteenyears on tumblr for help with the ideas!</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rafe inhaled deeply, his eyes tired as he glanced at the alarm clock by his bed.

It was 11:45 at night.

Rafe reached up, gingerly brushing his fingertips against the sensitive, purple bruising around his right eye.

His dad’s punches hurt. Like hell.

The day’s events replayed in his head for the hundredth time. How he’d woken up to his father furiously pulling him from his bed, screaming obsenities and slurs at him. Rafe had tried to cover the lovebites up, but had clearly not done a well enough job.

The bruises and blemishes, which Rafe cherished and loved most after he left his lover, Samuel, were littered about his shoulders and neck and there was an off one on his jaw, and though he knew these were some of his favorite things to see when he looked in the mirror, he knew nothing felt worse than the pain that made him see stars as his father’s hand connected with his face.

He sniffed. Five minutes had passed with him lost in thought. Ten minutes closer to seeing Sam.

Ten minutes closer to being interrogated for having a vividly-colored bruise that wasn’t there the night before.

Seven minutes.

The boy swallowed hard. He’d been worrying about what Sam would say all day. He knew this wouldn’t come out well with Sam. The older teen was fiercely protective, and though they both knew Sam would never be able to go toe-to-toe with a millionaire and get away with it, Rafe didn’t think that’d stop him.

Whatever response this bruise got, Rafe doubted it’d come out with either clear consequences or anyone happy.

Five minutes.

Rafe felt his heartrate speed up; what would he say? What would Sam’s exact words be? What would Sam want to do about this? What would Sam not want to do about this?

The anxiety began to settle in Rafe’s veins, he could feel it. It made his blood run cold and he felt suddenly lightheaded, his mouth suddenly irritably dry. He begins to follow the breathing exercises he remembers Sam showing him not long ago.

Just as he glances at the clock out of the corner of his eye, checking to see how much longer until Sam arrives now--exactly two minutes, he watches the blaring green numbers change--he jumps out of his skin at the sound of soft knocking on his window, and he doesn’t have to see the brown hair or freckled cheeks or beautiful eyes to know that it’s Sam, and within seconds, he’s out of bed, throwing open the window and grabbing Sam’s arm, trying to yank him through the pane.

Sam helped Rafe’s process, grabbing the sill and yanking himself through. He knows something’s wrong before the window’s even open; the way Rafe is curled on his bed, taking heavy breaths as he showed him to were he to ever be in a rough situation, speaks volumes. He’s never come to the window so quickly.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Sam asks, trying to keep himself as calm and composed as possible, his voice low. He immediately wishes he could swallow his words as Rafe looks up, meeting his gaze, one of those beautiful, blue-brown eyes swollen shut.

“Who the hell did this to you?” Sam hisses, his eyes narrowing, his chest filling with, briefly, worry, which is soon replaced with a swelling, blistering rage, feeling every inch of it as it bubbles and blossoms in his chest and in his veins, in his heart. 

Rafe remained silent, eventually giving a soft sniffle and averting his gaze once more.

“S-Sam...” Rafe choked, the shiny tears welling in his eyes.

Sam immediately held Rafe tight in his arms, gently rubbing his back as he softly sobbed into his shoulder. The entire room seemed to no longer exist, the walls vanished and the floors melted away, taking each piece of furniture with it as it slipped into nothingness, the light shining directly on what mattered most to Sam: his seventeen-year-old, crying boyfriend with the bruised right eye and the crystalline tears slipping down his cheeks.

“God, Rafe, please, tell me what happened...” Sam whispers as his lips softly press to Rafe’s hairline. “Who did this? Why...?”

Rafe babbled it all out, his voice forcibly low and muffled by Sam’s shirt.

“I didn’t, I didn’t hide them well enough,” he sniffed. “My dad saw them, he called me all these different names, said I was a disgrace to the Adler name, a wreck, and then he...he...”

Sam’s heart sank as he listened to Rafe’s voice fade and die, and soon the sorrow became lividness, and he felt it as it spread through his whole body like fire, blossoming in his chest and tightening his throat, his fingers shaking very feintly against Rafe’s body.

Needless to say, Mr. Adler had never been a good man, much less a good father. Sam had always disliked the man; he was positively uptight and rude, and after just one meeting with him when Rafe brought him home as a...“friend” for the first time, the rich man had frowned upon the friendship, and forced Rafe to never visit him again, and any time Sam showed up on the Adler’s doorstep, he was not allowed inside.

The man was disgusting.

Sam pulled back, gently grabbing Rafe’s face, rubbing his thumbs over his tear-streaked cheeks.

“It’s okay, baby,” he spoke softly. “We’re gonna get you outta here, alright?”

Rafe sniffled, giving Sam a nervous look.

“Sam, my dad will pay top dollar to have me found and brought home, just to look like a saint...I can’t go...”

“I can’t sit here and watch you get hurt like this, Rafe...and I know it’s scary right now, but getting you out of here is what I think could be best for you...you can’t stay with your father, he’s dangerous...”

Sam gave Rafe an almost pleading look, and Rafe swallowed hard before moving over and locking his bedroom door, taking a shaky breath.

“In case he decides to come in while I’m packing.”

Sam nodded encouragingly to Rafe as he switched spots with the boy, standing by the door to make sure Mr. or Mrs. Adler didn’t come to the door, ready to give Rafe a warning if either of them were to come by the door, watching Rafe hurriedly pack.

He’d feel bad about this night for all of his life, but he knew that he had to protect his lover; to be living in a home with a man like Mr. Adler wasn’t good for anyone, Sam knew. He’d felt all of this before. The first time would never be the last. The punches only hurt more until you realized you were enduring the greatest pain of all: not feeling anymore.

Rafe, on the other hand...with trembling hands, he secured his lightly packed bag on his back, then proceeded to sit in front of his closet, staring at the ground..

‘Tonight could be the last night I ever see this house...’ he thought to himself. ‘Maybe it’s for the best...’

His thoughts raced, tangling up in his brain. Sam was right; this was the best option. Though he was only seventeen, his birthday was nearly two months away, and then, he’d be free.

Free.

The idea planted itself, a tiny seed, in his heart, and as he turned and gave Sam a small smile, climbing to his feet, he felt the water that nourished the seed sprinkle along his skin in the form of goosebumps.

“I’m ready.”


	2. Chapter 2

They hadn’t stepped a foot past that damn window than an alarm began blaring that Rafe was sure would be audible for miles. His dad must have had installed just the other day.

Shit. How could he have forgotten?

Within seconds, Sam had Rafe’s wrist, pulling him toward the street, the sound of sirens growing louder as Sam hopped the gate to Rafe’s home first.

The air around Rafe was cold, and he cursed himself for not changing clothes before proceeding with this exceedingly dangerous plan. His heart thundered against his chest, his ears ringing, and not just with the sound of the approaching police sirens, and as soon as he had landed on his feet on the other side of the Adler fence, he felt Sam’s hand locking with his, leading him across the street to what Rafe, regrettably, realized was a motorcycle.

Sam climbed on the back, quickly realizing Rafe’s reluctance.

“Rafe, c’mon, I know it looks scary, but this is our best chance of gettin’ the hell outta here.”

Rafe swallowed hard, pushing down his anxiety as he hesitantly climbed on the bike, clinging to his lover, mumbling something about “metal death traps,” and these mumbles pulled a chuckle from Sam’s throat.

____

As soon as the ride was over and he was a safe distance from the motorcycle, Rafe was leaning over with his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths.

“You alright?” He heard Sam ask through static-filled ears, managing to respond with a breathy, unsteady “sure”.

Upon looking up from his small break to calm down, he recognized the Catholic orphanage they stood outside of. It was the orphanage Sam had grown up in for...some of his childhood.

“We gotta go get Nathan,” Sam started, but Rafe quickly objected.

“No, no,” Rafe huffed. “You get to go get Nate. I will hide out here and...guard our bike. I have had too much excitement for one hour.”

Sam held still for a moment and weighed his options. He knew Rafe was a set-in-his-ways kind of boy, and trying to force him, no matter the amount of worry Sam had for him, would not prevail. He sighed and grabbed the back of Rafe’s neck, pressing a kiss to Rafe’s hairline. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Sam stated and, just like that, Rafe was alone with a motorcycle in the shadows of a Catholic orphanage.

Great.

Rafe took a heavy breath, tapping his foot against the concrete as he leaned back against the brick building. Though it had been messy, Rafe couldn’t deny that the ride had been fun so far. He’d never imagined he’d be doing anything like this.

He’d never imagined doing anything fun with his life, really.

He’d met Nate a time or two, on the lucky occasion that Sam let Nate get a good distance from the orphanage. The kid was pretty decent, in Rafe’s opinion, and they got along fairly well, even if Rafe could get a little stuck up in Nate’s eyes. Guess it was just the way he was raised.

It was a good twenty minutes, probably more (Rafe had always sucked with keeping track of time), before Sam followed his brother down a nearby ladder.

Rafe coughed nervously as Nate approached, mumbling a “hello” to him. The last time they’d gotten together, Sam had ended up fawning over Rafe the whole time--more specifically, Rafe’s lips.

Nate turned to his brother and raised an eyebrow.

“If you brought me here just to ignore me so you can make out with him again--” he began, but Sam hastily cut him off with a laugh.

“No, Nathan, look, we’re, we’re leavin’. We gotta leave town, fast,” Sam explained. “Rafe and I are in trouble--big trouble, and we’re bringin’ you with us.”

“What? What’d you do, Sam?” Nate questioned, a suspicious look coming to his face.

Rafe felt a nervous shiver go through his body as he thought he heard a police siren, one he knew wasn’t there but couldn’t help fear.

“No time to explain, Nate,” Rafe cut in, swallowing hard. “I ran away and that’s all the explaining you need for now. C’mon, we all gotta fit on this...”thing”.” 

Nate stared for a moment, the sight of his brother and his brother’s boyfriend climbing onto the bike a smudged mess in his eyes.

What the hell was going on?

He obediently climbed on as Rafe patted what limited space remained on the seat behind him, and for the second time that night, they took off down the road.

____

Fortunately, nobody had any need to urgently stop the motorcycle, so the trip to get just out of town didn’t feel all that long, as quick as they could make it, Sam pulling up outside a relatively vacant hotel.

“We should be good here,” Sam muttered. “I’ll get rid of the bike tomorrow and then take a cab and get us a rental.”

Rafe nodded, climbing off and chuckling a little bit at how visibly tired Nathan was.

“Better get him inside,” Rafe mumbled, leading Nate inside, watching Sam’s tense back as he led their little three person group to the front desk.

The little woman behind the desk was quite up there in terms of age, her hair grayed, squinting even with a pair of glasses on.

She wouldn’t be able to tell who they were, news broadcast or not.

But then she asked for a name. One of the few things they couldn’t safely give her.

After a few seconds of tense silence, Nathan piped up.

“Drake. Our last name is Drake.”

The old woman stared for a moment before continuing to sluggishly type, giving them that warm, grandmother smile as she handed Sam their room key.

Shuffling down the hallway, Rafe watched Sam for a second: his straight back, his freckled cheeks, his broad shoulders and his strong body. He was the entirety of perfection and more, Rafe noted, as he did every time he saw Sam, stepping up and grabbing his hand, lacing their fingers together, not even releasing as Sam opened the hotel room door.

Nothing lavish, definitely, in Rafe’s eyes. Most certainly the opposite of what he was used to, but it’d have to do.

God, was he tired...

Sam made sure to keep his brother comfortable; surely this trip was hard on him; he’d just been removed from the place where he, essentially, had lived out the majority of his thirteen-year-old life, to travel with his brother and his brother’s now-runaway boyfriend. 

Rafe crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over himself and silently watching as Sam ruffled his little brother’s hair and pulled up the sheets, making sure he was off to sleep before even thinking about joining Rafe in the second bed. 

There was a soft sigh as he stood from Nathan’s bed, pulling off his shoes and crawling beneath the sheets with Rafe.

Rafe immediately rolled over, pressing himself to his boyfriend’s side, resting his head against the warm chest, listening to the way his heartbeat calmed inside his chest, smiling as a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Even after all the running around and all of the excitement of today, Sam’s scent of citrus and cigarette smoke was almost intoxicating. What was it with this boy?

A soft pair of lips brushed along Rafe’s forehead, and he chuckled softly.

“That’s my favorite,” he mumbled.

“Noted,” came Sam’s sleepy reply.

“Bullshit...you won’t even remember this conversation tomorrow, I guarantee it...”

“Oh hush,” Rafe closed his eyes as he listened to Sam’s voice, the rumble of a soft laugh in his chest. “Get some sleep...”

“Aye aye, cap’n...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> credit to fxfteenyears on tumblr for help with the ideas!


	3. Chapter 3

The night was long for Rafe, his eyes heavy but unable to close completely. His thoughts were an absolute wreck, and he was unable to calm himself, even as he lay flush against Sam’s safe body.

“Had I really done the right thing?” he’d asked himself, over and over again for no less than an hour; a long hour.

But again and again, he found himself unable to miss the miserable place he’d grown up in. Even in the most crowded room, Rafe had always felt singled out, so open and so alone, so vulnerable, all under his father’s scrutinizing gaze, even if he did look just like everyone else. He always knew that his way with words could only get him so far; though he communicated well enough with his father’s business associates, he recognized his inability to equate to much against his father’s chains, his high expectations, the chains yanking him back into the feelings of uselessness in the form of his father’s screaming, degrading voice, his father’s fist.

But now, as him and Nate sat in the lobby of the hotel, he tried to shake off the memory of his late night. ‘Those thoughts no longer belong to me,’ he said to himself. ‘They belong to...to the boy who scaredly lived at Adler Estate, under the Adler thumb.’

Rafe inhaled deeply. Sam had left to ditch the bike about an hour ago, he was due back any second now. Rafe would be lying if he said the anxious twisting in his stomach wasn’t making him want to throw up his breakfast.

He looked at Nate, who’d been bored and distant all morning, his eyes fixed on the TV. Poor quality, but Rafe guessed it kept him entertained.

“Don’t you find the news boring?” Rafe questioned.

“I can’t even find the remote,” Nate shrugged. “I bet that lady at the front desk has it.”

Rafe halted his pacing, forcing himself to sit beside Nate, and even when he settled in, he found himself unable to still his knee, The way that Nate gave him an odd look almost made him sigh, but instead he just shrugged.

“Why’d you guys bring me?”Nate asked suddenly, and Rafe frowned.

“Well, it was your brother’s decision, really--” Rafe started, but he was cut off by the voice he knew best.

“Rafe! You got the money?” he heard Sam ask from behind him. “We gotta go.”

Rafe got to his feet, pulling some money from his pocket. Thank God he’d remembered to grab what he’d saved for himself before they left.

He followed Sam to the front desk, where a new, much younger lady stood, her hair pulled back and her head hung low.

Rafe gave her a thin-lipped smile before she turned to speak to Sam, giving him a total, which he then began to count out with the money Rafe had handed him.

Suddenly, Rafe heard Nate call to his brother, the nervous edge in his voice sending a jolt through Rafe’s spine.

He followed Nate’s gaze to the TV, and his stomach dropped.

There on the poorly-lit screen were pictures of all three boys, things like “missing” and “have you seen them?” rolling across the screen.

Sam’s voice was dull in his ears.

“Yeah, Nate?” he asked, not looking up from his hands. Rafe grabbed his sleeve.

“Sam, we need to go. Now.” he stated, his mouth dry.

Sam looked up, looking to the TV. Rafe could feel him tense up, before quickly turning and practically slamming the money down on the counter, spitting out, “keep the change”.

Rafe watched, everything passing by so quickly, how the lady’s eyes widened as she made the connection between the boys on the screen and the boys on the other side of the counter, her hand moving to the phone.

Oh shit.

He was fast in moving to the couch, pulling Nathan to his feet and pushing him toward the door, his hands starting to shake.

“Go,” he choked out. “Go!”

Nate darted for the door, his eyes wide, Sam hurrying to Rafe’s side.

“The red one,” he shouted, and Rafe guessed he meant the color of the car, but his eyes were distracted by the sight on the TV screen.

His disgusting father, forcing out alligator tears, his mother nowhere in sight, his father repeating in an overdramatic voice, “bring Rafe home, bring Rafe home”.

Damn him.

He didn’t protest as he felt Sam grab his arm, yanking him outside. Rafe shook his head in disbelief; he had to clear his head, clear the anger. Now was not the time to break down.

Refocusing his eyes, he darted to the passenger side door of the car, climbing in as Sam jumped behind the wheel, Nathan hastily buckling himself in in the backseat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sam growled under his breath, hurriedly putting the keys in the ignition.

Rafe braced himself in his seat, trying to sync with his breathing exercises, desperate to calm himself, his heart pounding as they pulled away from the hotel.

He’d never forget the look on that woman’s face.

____

A good three hours and one very brief gas station stop later, the three found themselves off the beaten path, driving alongside very few other people. Rafe’d slept for maybe a few minutes; or he’d tried to, anyway. Needless to say, his efforts were fruitless.

Sam hadn’t spoken a word other than to ask Nathan how he was, visibly lost in thought, to an extent.

They had no idea where they were going, no idea what they were doing. It almost seemed, to Rafe, as if Sam was beginning to regret starting this journey without planning it all out.

Rafe looked to his boyfriend through his tired eyes. Sam still had those lovely stars in his beautiful eyes, and even after this morning and last night, those stars had bright hope and youth in them. It was something Rafe had admired the first time he’d ever laid eyes on Sam. Although he hated to admit it, Rafe was rather hopeless; his youthful optimism had begun to fade by the age of twelve, and when, upon age fifteen, he’d been informed that he was to inherit and run his father’s boring business, Rafe had simply given up. He’d never escape his father.

But then, Rafe had met Sam. Sam was an enthusiastic eighteen-year-old boy, with dreams of holding the world in the palms of his, notably warm, hands. He seemed so strong and invincible, so amazing. And God, did he still. Rafe hoped that Sam would never change, that that beautiful optimism kept him going.

He was everything Rafe had once hoped to be, but upon meeting him, had realized that some things were better to hold than to possess.

Rafe reached over, grabbing Sam’s hand off his thigh, gently lacing their fingers as their hands rested on the console.

Sam looked at Rafe for a brief second out of the corner of his eye, and Rafe smiled upon noticing the gorgeous half-grin that Sam wore so well. Their eyes spoke for them, and that’s all that mattered to Rafe. He knew Sam knew how he felt without even trying; he knew he’d never have to doubt it. And even better?

Sam felt exactly the same.

____

Not even thirty minutes after taking hold f his boyfriend’s hand, Rafe was finally able to relax enough to sleep.

His dreams, however? Not so relaxing.

As it turns out, the news broadcast of his father’s fake feelings had bugged him more than he’d thought. Enough to seep through his memory and into his thoughts and his dreams.

The dream as nothing extravaggant, not by any stretch of the imagination; not at first, at least.

Rafe wouldn’t have been able to count the number of times the news footage repeated, over and over and over, in his head before it transitioned into something worse; into a memory.

Where he’d been standing in the hotel suddenly began to shift and disfigure, the earthy tones of the lobby seeming to simultaneously bleed out and darken into the eerily clean colors and tones of his father’s home, his bedroom. Rafe very suddenly felt small and, when he turned his head to look back at the TV, he found his father standing in it’s place.

“Where’s Rafe?” he’d said mockingly, mechanically. “Worthy boy, unworthy boy. Heir to the Adler fortune? Disgrace.”

Rafe came to realize that he hadn’t just imagined the feeling of being small--he looked down at himself to realize he was younger--by ten years, to be exact. He recognized the small, white, irritating suit that adorned his body--it was the suit his father had smugly put him in the morning of his seventh birthday.

And never before had Rafe hated something more than he hated that suit.

The day had been one of Rafe’s worst.

He’d been taken out to see stuck up family members; he distinctly remembered being unable to play with the other kids.

“That suit is worth more than your life,” his father had remarked. “I don’t know how, but if you play with the other kids, you’ll surely mess it up.”

There’d been no cake, there’d been no balloons or toys and Rafe didn’t remember even smiling--he knew it’d been a contributing factor to his later treatment.

He could vaguely recall one present--a thing he’d rejected in front of his entire family, a way he’d “humiliated” Mr. Adler.

An extended hand to him--his father’s--only holding a bowtie. An awfully large bowtie.

“You’ll wear this on the day I give you my business, boy,” he’d smiled, but there was no warmth in his voice, much less his eyes.

Rafe had only looked at it for a moment before his lip had trembled and pouted, his eyes gleaming with fresh tears.

“No!” he’d shouted, smacking at his father’s hand, directly in front of the whole family. The second his father’s face tinged red, he knew he shouldn’t have done it.

Every moment passed in a blur as his arm was grabbed tightly, a burning pain, causing him to cry out as he was stiffly dragged down the hall and into his father’s bedroom, where he was sat on the bed.

Never before had he been yelled at like he had that night. His entire body had felt numb and he’d kept his young hands balled into fists and only looked up when his father demanded it.

However, he could’ve never imagined what came next.

His father went silent, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was eerily even.

“Where’d Rafe go?” he’d questioned. “Where’d the heir to the Adler fortune go? All that sits here now is a disgrace.”

Before he’d even registered the words, he felt a sharp sting at the side of his face and a woman yelling his father’s name; screaming.

The rest of that day had passed by in a blur, every single action like walking throug quicksand.

All he could think was, ‘he hit me. He hit me’.

And it was only the first of many times.

____

Rafe was awoken by a very irritated Sam.

The first thing he noticed aisde from Sam’s voice was the fact that it was night, and that they were in practically he middle of nowhere. 

And the car wasn’t moving.

“Where are we?” Rafe grunted, climbing out of the car.

“The damn car broke down,” Sam growled. “We’re gonna have to go by foot to the next town.

“Oh. Damn...”

The tired boy watched as Sam looked around for a few minutes before heading off down the dirt road with a grumbly, “c’mon”.

Not even an hour or so into their walk, having been passed by very few cars at this point, things went from bad to worse.

It began to rain.

“Oh, fuck,” he heard Sam hiss, the older brother immediately turning to check on Nathan, pulling the younger boy’s hood up. Nate grumbled at this, but left the hood up.

Rafe, being the genius of a boy he guessed that he was, had neither put on a jacket when left or, upon further inspection of his bag, packed one.

Well, shit.

Rafe hugged himself and sighed, closing his eyes and feeling the little needle shots against his skin, biting him through the fabric of his shirt.

A litle while later, he felt a softness against his shoulders, and realized that softness was his lover’s jacket.

“Sam, you don’t have to do this for me, really,” Rafe said, looking up at the beautiful face of the older boy to his left, the beautiful face that he knew like the back of his hand.

“Ah, but I want to,” Sam responded, his smile the warmest thing beneath the cool rain.

Rafe smiled, his gaze returning to the ground beneath his feet.

Suddenly, the night didn’t seem so cold, and the walk didn’t feel like it’d be that long.

____

Of course, the small group had to take a break eventually, and though he’d never admit it, Rafe was pretty smug about it being Nate and not him who asked first.

They all moved off to the side of the road, crouching down, Sam staying beside Rafe with a comforting arm wrapped around his shoulders.

They stayed like that for a good while, Nate absentmindedly drawing shapes in the dirt with his finger the entire time, and just as they were about to continue walking, a car pulled up and stopped just up the road. Rafe felt himself tense up, the liquid warmth rise in his throat as the driver stuck an arm out the window, gesturing something. It didn’t take long for him to realize what he wanted: he wanted Sam to come to him.

Rafe grabbed Sam’s arm, and shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but Sam gently shushed him.

“I’m just gonna go see what he wants. This could be our way to the next town,” Sam said. “You stay back here with Nathan and run if you see anything funny go down. I’ll signal you if it’s safe, okay?”

Sam nodded to Rafe, who reluctantly nodded back, a lump forming in his throat, watching as he walked to the car, leaning toward the window.

He tensely remained by Nate’s side, hardly relaxing when, a moment later, Sam waved him over. He and Nate exchanged glances, before Nate shrugged and led the way to the car, watching, with panic rising in his chest and his throat, as Sam climbed into the open backseat.

“Sam, are you--?” he began to protest, going silent when he made eye contact with the older, blue-eyed, smiling driver.

“Calm down and get in the goddamn car.”


	4. Chapter 4

Rafe had reluctantly climbed into the car, the little group getting situated, Sam insisting on having the middle seat, fussing over his brother’s seatbelt before calming down and turning to look at Rafe.

Rafe hadn’t calmed in the slightest, and he knew Sam knew it.

His eyes closed peacefully once his fingers locked with Sam’s, his lover’s knee bumping against his own, his thumb rubbing against the back of Rafe’s knuckles. God, how he loved these strong hands.

He did not, however, love it when things yanked him from his peacefulness. One of those things?

The man in the driver’s seat.

“Where the hell did you kids think you were goin’ on foot?” he questioned.

“We, ah...” Sam started, awkwardly smiling at Rafe. “Funny story, we have no idea. We have nowhere to go.”

Rafe watched the older man in the mirror, the expression on his face a perfect mix of suspicious and confused.

“The hell’re your parents?” he tried again, and this time, he glanced at Rafe, quickly doing a double-take. “Aren’t you that Adler boy?”

Rafe felt his throat tighten and his eyes got a bit wider, his mouth going dry. He opened his mouth to form words, to say something to defend himself, anything, but nothing came out, and he tightened his grip on Sam’s hand.

Sam squeezed back, knowing full well he’d go all the way to protect his boyfriend and his brother.

“Hey, look, so what if he is...” Sam started, his voice low and defensive, but the man just laughed.

“Alright, kid, calm down, I’m not gonna turn you in,” his smile was thin-lipped. “I don’t believe in cash rewards, especially from a man like that.”

Rafe leaned against the car door, taking a shaky breath as his head lightly bumped against the cool glass of the window. Holy shit.

“Well, you know our names,” Sam proceded, rubbing Rafe’s hand with his thumb. “I think it’s only right we know yours.”

“Victor Sullivan,” he stated. “But I go by Sully.”

Nate snorted quietly, grinning as he watched the world pass by outside the window, and Sully glanced at him with a grin, already knowing why he was laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sully’s a silly name,” Nate responded, smiling. “’Specially for an old guy like you.” This drew quite the pleasant laugh out of Sully.

“Nathan!” Sam exclaimed, but he, too, was trying to contain laughter of his own. Rafe felt one tug at his lips, too, and he realized just how grateful he was to have these brothers.

____

The tension of the car ride eventually faded, replaced with a relaxed air as Nate and Sully bantered back and forth, Nate finding particular joy in poking fun at Sully’s nickname and facial hair. Sam eventually had to interrupt their fun, much to everyone’s misfortune, questioning him about where he lived and just how out-of-the-way his town was. Of course, the unfamiliar man brushed off Sam’s worries.

“If you’re anxious about gettin’ caught, you don’t need to be,” he had said. “Nobody’s exactly clean around my town; not many people in general.”

Once they’d reached the town, back around people again, Rafe understood that Sully wasn’t lying.

It was certainly small, and they passed very few other people, very few cars; not even the parking lots of restaurants or movie theaters were all that full. It almost creeped Rafe out, but he knew that this was the safest place for them to be right now.

Rafe suddenly felt Sam gently tug on his arm, silently asking for him to come closer, an unspoken tension in his eyes and in the way his square jaw set. He knew Sam was afraid of being caught, afraid that somebody, anybody in this town would notice them and turn them in. 

Rafe shifted closer, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder, a little half smile coming to his lips as Sam’s head came to rest on his.

“I love you...” he heard Sam mumble above him, his voice quiet and full of exhaustion.

Rafe relaxed, gently reaching over and patting his knee, his voice a soft whisper, as well.

“I love you, too, Sammy...”

____

Rafe awoke to a pair of strong arms pulling him from the car, the limbs wrapped firmly around his thin waist.

Immediately, his mind jumped to the worst conclusions: his father, or the police to take him back to his father.

He felt the panic rise in his stomach, plaguing his abdomen with furious butterflies, the feeling coming through his lungs and his heart and into his throat, settling on the back of his tongue like a bad taste, and he let out a grunt as he arched his back up so his stomach pushed against the hands, his own hands coming to claw at the ones pressed flush to his stomach, pushing his head back against their chest and shoulder, swallowing thickly when he realized he was fighting off a welcome intruder.

“Hey, hey, baby, calm down, it’s me...” he heard Sam say, his arms tightening around Rafe’s waist, and the younger boy almost immediately relaxed.

“Fuck...sorry, Sam, I thought you were...” he shook his head as his voice trailed off, closing his eyes again and now taking in the familiarities of Sam’s body.

“Shh, shh, you don’t have to say it, I know,” Sam said, pulling his exhausted boyfriend out of the car and looking at the small house, one arm shifting to support Rafe’s back, the other to his legs.

“Where are we...?” Rafe questioned sluggishly, blinking a little bit of sleep from his eyes.

“We’re at the old guy’s house. He’s lettin’ us stay with him for a while, remember?”

Rafe narrowed his eyes before reclosing them and nodding, shrugging a little and resting his head back on Sam’s chest, blocking out the feeling of the world passing him by as Sam walked with, instead, the sound and the feeling of Sam’s heartbeat, blocking out the way Sam mumbled to Sully--“where’s our bedroom?”

He only grunted, opening his eyes and mouth to complain when he suddenly felt himself being placed on a bed, Sam’s arms slipping from beneath him.

“Sam...” he murmured, his eyes moving to find their favorite sight through the blurriness, finally catching him and watching with absent interest as he closed the door and set down both his bag and Rafe’s, before losing him again as he walked around and climbed into the bed.

A pleasant shiver ran up his spine and he hummed happily as an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back to his chest, the two instinctively seeming to curl around one another, Rafe twisting into his usual ball, hugging himself and his lover’s arms, his legs pulling toward his chest, Sam’s body seeming to fit to him like a shell.

“Hey Sam...?” Rafe whispered, and Sam nuzled and kissed his neck in response, giving a soft hum of acknowledgement.

“Please never leave me...don’t leave me alone, without you...”

Sam noticeably frowned against Rafe’s skin, his grip tightening on Rafe’s waist, a soft promise of “I’ll never”.

____

Rafe woke up the next morning to an empty bed; not that he wasn’t used to that. Back before all of this travelling had happened, he’d been used to waking up to Sam away from his bed, but this time he was in a house that...actually felt like a home, that was the opposite of the Adler mansion.

He rolled over in bed, rubbing at his eyes and just barely registering the dull ache in his legs and his back, staring up at the ceiling to gather his thoughts.

Slowly sitting up straight, Rafe gave a soft yawn, and popped his fingers, looking down at his toes, feeling his cheeks flame a little as he remembered the words he’d spoken in his sleepy haze last night, a soft smile coming to his lips.

He climbed out of bed and stretched his arms out over his head, hearing one of his legs pop quietly, before exiting the room in search of Sam.

Though the blinds were mostly shut, the sunlight still filtered through them, making little patches of warmth on the carpeted floor under his feet as he walked toward the kitchen.

He caught sight of Sam in the kitchen, in front of the sink, nobody else around.

Though they were young and had yet to grow into their full bodies, Rafe found his arms feeling perfectly fit as they wrapped around Sam’s waist from behind, inhaling his scent as he buried his face in his back.

“Mornin’,” he heard the smile in Sam’s voice, and loved the way that one of Sam’s hands shifted from the bottle in his hands to rest on Rafe’s hand, his fingertips lightly rubbing along Rafe’s knuckles.

“Where’s Nate, and the old guy...?”

“Talked to them this morning,” Sam said quietly, taking a sip of the drink in his hand. “He took Nate out, they took off to get stuff to support the...growing family of four.”

Rafe laughed a little.

“I’m surprised you let him go...clearly you see somethin’ trustworthy in that old guy.”

Sam scoffed a little.

“His name is Sully, Rafe. And...sure,” he shrugged. “He doesn’t seem all that bad...and Nathan insisted on going. Really seems to like him. Regardless, I won’t go anywhere without you, especially after the past two days.”

The seventeen-year-old nodded, trying to ignore the way his blood rushed to his cheeks for the second time in the short while he’d been up.

“I made a promise to you while you were half asleep last night,” he felt the vibrations through Sam’s back as he spoke. “And...”

Sam inhaled heavily, flipping the bottle cap between his fingers.

“And I know it’s been rough and I know it’s all sudden,” he continued, his voice slow and a bit hesitant. “So I just wanted you to know that...I’m scared, too.”

This made the gears Rafe’s head start to creak and turn, violently.

Sam is scared?

“What do you mean...?” he asked, and the quiet that’s settled now is a scream of anxiety to Rafe. The alarm bells are going off as Rafe repeats it in his head again, with more finality now.

Sam, Rafe’s support system, is scared.

“I am afraid that I am going to lose you,” the words were choppy and thick in Sam’s mouth, his voice trembling, and Rafe could tell the words were foreign to his boyfriends; words he wasn’t used to saying. “I am afraid that that god damn man, that sorry excuse for a father and a human, is gonna come take you from me.”

Rafe feels a plethora of emotions in this moment; he feels it all swell in his chest and on his tongue, coming out in a breathy, shaky laugh, Sam nervously shifting in Rafe’s grasp, his face blocked from Rafe’s sight.

“Sam, look at me...” Rafe says, loosening his grip just enough so that Sam can twist to see him, screwing the cap on the bottle and setting it down on the counter before reaching down and circling his own arms around Rafe.

“I know you, Sam...” Rafe started quietly. “We’re both scared, but I know you...I know that you are the strongest person I’ve ever met, that, that you could have the entire world challenge you to the biggest fucking fight and still come out on top; for me, or for Nate.”

Rafe swallowed hard, looking down at Sam’s chest, no idea where he was going with this whatsoever, hooked on Sam’s every word now.

“I, I just...” Sam stumbles over his words, sighing and shaking his head. “You have no reason to be afraid of me leaving you, Rafe, I don’t think I could do it, even if I wanted to, even if something came between us...your father is...just another obstacle right now, okay...? We can get past him...”

Rafe’s heart swelled and he felt the grin grow on his face, finally looking up and meeting Sam’s gaze.

A laugh slipped from his lips as he reached up and pulled Sam down, hugging his neck and connecting their lips, not minding for a moment how cracked Sam’s lips were against his, which were, and, not to brag, much softer. He knew Sam loved them so; he’d told him as much, almost every night they met in secret.

Suddenly he felt Sam’s hands grip his waist and lift him off of his feet, drawing a bit of a squeak from his lips and immediately after a full laugh, Sam standing between his legs and hugging his waist, Rafe wrapping one arm around his shoulders and the other hand moving to twist in his hair, and Rafe felt Sam’s smile against his lips as much as he knew Sam felt his.

Eventually, Rafe reluctantly had to allow Sam to pull away, resting his forehead on Sam’s as they smiled at each other.

“You’ve got beautiful eyes,” Rafe whispered, his hand coming to rub at Sam’s cheek.

“They’ll never be as beautiful as all of you,” came Sam’s reply, and it sent a jolt through Rafe, his heartbeat speeding up as Sam’s head leaned into his palm, his eyes closed peacefully, the shorter of the two failing to resist the urge to kiss the older boy’s forehead, gently holding his shoulder with his free hand.

Sam’s head turned slightly, pressing a soft, featherlight kiss to Rafe’s palm, starting to gently rub Rafe’s sides, looking up at him from beneath thick eyelashes, and a grin spread across his lips as he spoke.

“God help me,” Sam mumbled, laughing. “I’m so in love with you.”


	5. Chapter 5

The day began to progress as normal--or at least, as normal as it could for two teenage soulmates.

“We’re going to fucking ruin Sully’s kitchen if we keep this up, Sam,” Rafe laughed breathily in between heavy kisses, his fingers tangled in Sam’s all-too-perfect hair.

“It’s a good thing that I have no interest in being polite or heterosexual, then, isn’t it?” Sam grinned before leaning back down and swiftly reclaiming Rafe’s lips, tightly holding his waist, his lips hungry and demanding.

Rafe grinned devilishly against Sam’s mouth, an idea popping into his head, and he pulled back momentarily to apologize.

“I’m sorry for this; I’ll make up for it later.”

Rafe pressed his feet to the counter, pushing himself forward and against Sam’s body, tightly hugging his shoulders as he effectively knocked him back, laughing when Sam gasped upon hitting the wall, kissing him to muffle his huff of surprise.

It took Sam a moment to gather himself again, but when he did, that dark, hungry, playful look in his eyes made Rafe’s heart skip a beat.

“You’re in for it now,” Sam growled, smirking, and Rafe decided to play along.

“Is that so?” he responded breathlessly. “Prove it; show me what you’ve got.”

A decision he thoroughly enjoyed making.

He yelped as Sam’s grasp shifted from his waist to supporting him at the back of his lower thighs, pulling a laugh from his throat. Damn his ticklish thighs.

Before he knew it, he was on his back on Sullivan’s couch, Sam above him, their legs tangled together, and he huffed in surprise when the older boy leaned down and assaulted his neck with, at first kisses that just sent shivers down his spine, through his whole body, the feeling like butterflies against his skin, and he let out a surprised grunt when there was suddenly a set of teeth locked to the side of his neck.

“Hah...Sam, calm down,” he gasped, though he couldn’t deny that he looked forward to seeing that blemish later.

Rafe looked up at Sam, his cheeks flushed and his swollen lips parted, his eyes half-lidded, and he knew Sam liked what he saw, his dark eyes drinking in the sight while it lasted, quickly gathering himself.

He reached up, gently pressing his palm to Sam’s chest, and Sam sat up a little bit, giving a shaky laugh.

“Sorry, sweetheart...you alright?” he gently brushed the pad of his thumb over the bitemark. “That looks like it hut.”

Rafe smirked.

“That’s the fun part,” he purred, a bit over dramatic.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before they both burst into laughter, Sam snorting a little.

“Wow, babe,” he laughed. “Real smooth.”

“Oh, like you’re any better!” Rafe chuckled, his cheeks hurting from all the smiling he’d done this morning.

“Here,” he mumbled once he’d taken a moment to calm down, and he slowly pulled Sam down to him, his fingers gently hooked around the back of his neck.

He softly pressed his lips to the hollow of Sam’s throat, pressing his tongue flat against the expanse of smooth skin before biting down very lightly, pulling at the skin between his teeth, filling with satisfaction as he heard Sam’s breath catch.

He eventually pulled back and pressed a small kiss to the bright red skin, smiling proudly at his work.

“That’ll look nice later,” he smiled, his gaze returning to Sam’s, melting beneath those young eyes.

Rafe patted Sam’s chest.

“Alright; let me up, my legs don’t like this anymore,” he said, following Sam as he sat up.

He stretched out and yawned, looking around.

‘What a tiny house,’ he thought to himself, now that he actually had the chance to look. ‘Definitely not like--’

No. Don’t you even dare think about it.

“You alright?” he heard Sam ask, and he managed a smile for his love.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright,” Rafe said, keeping his voice as even as possible. “I think I need a shower, though...he say where the bathroom was?”

Rafe watched as Sam nodded and pointed to a door just down the hall, a wave of butterflies washing over his body as Sam grabbed his hand when he went to walk away.

“Hey...”

“Yeah, Sam...?” Rafe said, turning to look at Sam.

“I love you, baby...” Sam smiled and kissed Rafe’s knuckles, the sight causing Rafe’s heart to wrench, warmth sinking into every inch of his skin.

“I love you, too.”

____

Sam watched Rafe as he walked away, a hand coming up and resting on the little spot of redness on his neck, where Rafe had pulled, a tiny spot of skin raised in irritation.

‘That’s my boy,’ he thought to himself, grinning.

Today was his first real day of being completely free with Rafe, their nights, their days before, had been filled with fear: the fear of getting caught, the fear of being too loud just talking, the fear that their kisses (and occasionally, whimpers and yelps, too_ would be far too loud, even when you’d need to be the length of maybe a butterfly wing away to hear them; a thing that Rafe, on his...angrier nights, liked to test.

Sam rubbed the back of his head as he remembered one night in particular where Rafe was pissed, something about his private teacher, and had kissed Sam so roughly, with such force, that his head had smacked back against the headboard. That one hurt.

‘What makes Rafe the way he is?’ Sam had always wondered before he met his father. The boy had been strong-willed but quiet and even in his worst moments he would do his best to keep his emotions in check, to hide them, only revealing them in late night moments along, sitting cross-legged in front of one another with locked gazes, where Sam could see all the things that swam in those blue-brown eyes.

At first, anyway.

Sam found it easy to compare Rafe to some form of a...breakable (beautiful, multi-faceted, intricate) glass structure, like a glass sculpture; you couldn’t break him without the shards hurting and stabbing you, too, violently, in some form. 

Rafe could, of course, break on his own, but that was not a thing for public view; he only ever broke down in front of the calming eyes of Sam, around the hands that would willingly gather him up, no matter how many cuts and scrapes he got.

The night they bolted from Rafe’s house was a prime example.

Rafe had broken down, he’d bawled directly before Sam’s eyes; the cheap glue holding his shards together had deteriorated, the pieces coming to lie at Sam’s feet, and he knew it took a lot for Rafe to trust him with the job of gathering them.

That night, though...something had awoken in Sam’s chest, in his heart, a feeling he hadn’t felt in many, many years, not since his father had left them, and though it’d calmed since two nights ago, it had refused to fall back asleep; Sam could still feel it breathing, snorting and shaking as he got up to retrieve his water bottle from the kitchen. It refused to lay down.

Though it hadn’t occurred to him, Sam concluded now that what he was feeling was none other than the violatile one named rage, a murderous kind, at that, and he knew that it was also fueled by an intense desire to protect the boy he loved.

He listened as the water to the shower in the other room stopped.

Huh. That felt short.

Sam shrugged, taking yet another sip of his water before returning it to the fridge, turning and smiling at his soaking wet boyfriend, a few stray water droplets dripping from his hair, whose thin shirt clung to his smaller frame, his pants hanging low on his hips.

He stepped forward, gently embracing Rafe.

‘Enough serious talk for today,’ Sam tells himself. ‘I have everything I need right here.’


	6. So uh, I hope it's okay that I put this here

I've been struggling with some writer's block for about a week now, so I hope everyone can just kinda bear with me on this. I'll try to get Chapter 6 out within the next two days!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry it's a little blocky! I had no idea what to do with this chapter :///

Rafe pulled away from Sam when he heard someone gag in the doorway, laughing as he noticed Nate’s disgusted expression.

“You guys are so gross,” he said, making a choking sound to irritate the two.

Sam laughed in response to this, and Nate swatted away his hand irritably as it ruffled his hair.

Nate walked off to the living room with his items-a bunch of notebooks, from the looks of it-and Sully entered th kitchen.

“I trust nothing is missing or destroyed?” he questioned.

“Nope,” Sam responded, and he contained his laughter at the pointed look Rafe gave him, causing Sully to narrow his eyes.

“I don’t wanna know,” he says as he holds his hands up.

Rafe smiled a little and patted Sam’s arm before he left to join Nate in the living room.

He sat down on the couch with Nate, watching the young boy as he ripped open a pack of mechanical pencils and popped open a notebook, staring for a moment before beginning to draw something Rafe couldn’t make out from where he sat.

The Adler boy lost interest rather quickly and turned his eyes to the TV; some boring crime show, and Rafe laughed inwardly, jumping when he heard Nate’s voice.

“What’s that?”

Rafe turned to him, giving him a puzzled look.

“That,” Nate says with more emphasis, and Rafe realizes with suddenness that Nate’s looking at his hickey before he’s even pointed to it, heat rushing to his face and ears.

“Nothin’, Nate,” Rafe hurries. “It’s just, um, stress?”

Nate narrows hie eyes, giving a long, drawn out “sure”, before his attention returned to his notebook.

___

Time passed like this, quickly, most days filled with Sam and Rafe lazing around, Sam doting over both his boyfriend and his little brother while Sully worked, until one night a little more than a month into their stay, Sam brought up a topic Rafe had been nervous about, one he couldn’t get his feelings straight on.

They lay in bed together, Sam’s arms wrapped around his waist, holding fistfuls of his shirt tightly, holding onto him like a child, kissing the back of his neck softly. He nuzzled into Rafe’s shoulder, inhaling heavily.

“Rafe...?”

“Yeah, Sam...?”

“Sully and I were talking earlier tonight, and...” Sam shifted a little. “I wanna leave the house. Not, not permanently, but I need to get out.”

Rafe tensed against Sam’s chest, tightening his grip over Sam’s hands.

“I know that you really don’t want me to, but Rafe, we, we can’t keep being so afraid...it’s been more than a month...”

Rafe swallowed hard before twisting in Sam’s arms to face him, looking up at him.

“There’s only incentive to turn you in, Rafe, you were the one with the cash reward, not me...nobody could care less if I was wandering the streets...everything’s alright, I will come home...”

Rafe’s gaze lowered to Sam’s chest, where he gently rested his hands, feeling Sam’s hands lightly rub his back.

His love had a point.

Rafe sucked in a heavy breath, leaning his head forward and resting it on Sam’s chest, closing his eyes.

“Damn straight, you’ll come back...” he tried to keep his voice indifferent and sarcastic, and cursed himself when it failed.

“I love you too much to even think about not coming back...”

___

Of course, the next morning, when he awoke to no Sam, he regretted letting Sam leave without him.

He was alone in the house with Nate, the two remaining rather quiet, Rafe doing nothing but get himself a water bottle before coming to sit on the couch, turning on the TV.

Nate was, unsurprisingly, preoccupied, with his notebooks and just plain books he’d received from Sully.

Rafe glanced at Nate out of the corner of his eye for a brief moment, flipping through the channels before speaking up.

“Where’d Sully and Sam go?”

“I didn’t ask,” Nate shrugged in response. “Sam just said something about Sully taking him to the store down the street and they left.”

Rafe nodded, despite haing no idea what or where the store was, exactly.

‘He’s just down the street,’ Rafe told himself calmly. ‘You’re both fine, and he’ll be home soon. He’s smart.’

“So why didn’t you go with them?” he questioned.

“Didn’t feel like it.”

Rafe nodded, shifting a bit before settling his eyes on the TV screen, eventually laying down against the armrest on his side. Damn the exhaustion of just waking up.

He gave a small yawn, and closed his eyes.

___

When he awoke what he could only guess was a few hours later, he was welcomed by the feeling of calloused fingers running through his hair, his head resting in someone’s lap.

He grunted and rolled onto his back, huffing softly, looking up at his freckled boyfriend.

“How long’ve you been home...?”

“’Bout an hour...”

Rafe sat up, sluggishly slipping his arms around Sam’s chest and hugging tight, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam laughed a little, smiling as he reciprocated, hugging Rafe’s waist, turning his head and pressing a soft kiss to his hairline.

“You know...” Rafe mumbled softly. “I don’t deserve you...”

Sam grunted quietly.

“Now you know that ain’t true, Rafe...”

Sam lightly pushed Rafe back to make eye contact with him, bringing hand up and brusing his thumb along his cheek.

Rafe leaned forward and caught Sam’s lips, reaching up and hugging his neck, smiling against his lips.

“I love you...” Sam whispered, his arms wrapping around Rafe’s chest.

“I love you, too...”

___

That was the last peaceful moment of the day.

Rafe noticed that Sully kept shooting strange looks at Sam, and although it likely shouldn’t have bugged him as much as it did, he couldn’t help it. It was just begging to be investigated.

The two continued their little wordless conversations and around lunch, Sam took Sully into an empty room with the words “we need to talk”, and, to Rafe’s surprise, Nate volunteered to listen in, his shocked expression making Rafe frown worriedly when he came back into the living room.

“What? What’d you hear?”

“Sounds like you’re gonna find out tonight,” Nate said, shaking his head as he sat down.

Rafe frowned, burrowing into the couch, his body immediately curling and conforming to Sam’s when he returned to the living room. 

Dinner, however? Dinner had been the tipping point for Rafe.

He caught Sully make eye contact with Sam again, but this time, he subtlely jerked his head in Rafe’s direction.

Oh, as if he wouldn’t notice.

“What?” he snapped, a little harsher than intended. “Why do you guys keep doing that?” 

“Doin’ what?” Sam asked, clearing his throat a little in surprise at Rafe’s small outburst.

“Giving each other weird looks!”

“I think it’s time you tell him, kid,” Sully said, raising his eyebrow.

“Tell me what?!” 

Sam nodded to Sully and stood up.

“Rafe, c’mon, there’s somethin’ I need to say to you,” he said, shushing Rafe when he opened his mouth to speak. “Trust me. It’s nothing bad.”

Rafe hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod and getting to his feet himself, watching Sam’s back with nervous eyes; he could feel the shaking settle in his limbs, embedded in his bones. His thoughts were running a million miles a minute. What could possibly be wrong? He’d said it was nothing bad, so why did he seem nervous?

As soon as the bedroom door shut behind them, Sam took a deep breath and started wringing his hands a little.

“Sam...?” Rafe frowned at this, knowing that the wringing was one of few things Sam did when he was nervous. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m, um, I’m alright,” Sam responded, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. “C’mere.”

Rafe immediately nodded and crawled onto the bed, slipping his arms around Sam’s waist, before gently tugging him to lay back on the bed with him, a tangle of young limbs and anxious feelings.

“Sammy, what’s wrong...?” Rafe gently reached up, brushing a hand through Sam’s hair, watching him open his eyes and take in a deep breath.

“Rafe, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” the older of the two started, and he paused, hesitated, before he visibly forced his voice to be calm. “But you still lay with me every night, you still trusted me enough to let me bring you to safety, to take care of you...you really do love me the way I love you, and I know this is all so wild and it’s all so fast, but...”

And his voice shook. Rafe watched as his eyes watered and he blinked the tears off and his lip trembled and he sucked in a heavy inhale.

“I...Rafe, I love you, and...” Sam held himself up on his arm and rolled over, shuffling around his bag a while before freezing as he visibly caught sight of the object he wanted, an object out of Rafe’s sight; God, it was nerve-wracking to see Sam like this. But he’d have to trust he was fine. They’d be okay.

He flipped over again, and Rafe saw the way his fist was balled up, the object he’d pulled out encased in it, Rafe assumed. 

“Rafe, I want you to be with me for the rest of my life,” Sam swallowed hard, and Rafe suddenly felt a tightness in his chest as it dawned on him what was coming.

“I want you to marry me.”

**Author's Note:**

> My friend fxfteenyears on tumblr helped me come up with some of these ideas!!


End file.
